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he awakened spirit rose in something like it. "God, Thou lovest me!" she said in her heart. He was there, somewhere beyond those stars. He would know what she was thinking. "I know but little of Thee; I desire to know more. Thou, who lovest me, tell some one to teach me!" It would have astonished her to be told that such unuttered longings for the knowledge of God could be of the nature of prayer. Brought up in intense formalism, it never occurred to her that it was possible to pray without an image, a crucifix, or a pair of beads. She crept to her poor straw pallet, and lay down. But the latest thought in her heart, ere she dropped asleep, was, "God loves me; God will take care of me, and teach me." She would have been startled to hear that this was faith. Faith, to her, meant relying on the priest, and obeying the Church. But was there no whisper--unheard even by herself-- "O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Note 1. This, I am sorry to say, was a lady without a head. It probably indicated the residence of an old bachelor. Note 2. The barb was a plaiting of white linen, which was fastened at the chin, and entirely covered the neck. Note 3. Sack appears to have been a general name for white wine, especially the sweeter kinds. CHAPTER THREE. MAKING PROGRESS. "I care not how lone in this world I may be, So long as the Master remembereth me." _Helen Monro_. "So sure as our sweet Lady, Saint Mary, worketh miracles at Walsingham, never was poor woman so be-plagued as I, with an ill, ne'er-do-well, good-for-nought, thankless hussy, picked up out of the mire in the gutter! Where be thy wits, thou gadabout? Didst leave them at the Cross yester-morrow? Go thither and seek for them! for ne'er a barley crust shalt thou break this even in this house, or my name is not Martha Winter!" And, snatching up a broom, Mistress Winter hunted Agnes out of doors, and slammed the door behind her. It was not altogether a new thing for Agnes to be turned out into the street for the night, and Mistress Winter reserved it as her most tremendous penalty. Perhaps, had she known how Agnes regarded it, she might have invented a new one. These occasions were her times of recreation, when she usually took refuge with good-natured Mistress Flint, who was always ready to give Agnes a supper and
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